


End of One, Start of One

by nihonlove



Series: Acting, Alphas and Self-Acceptance 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Dean, Alpha Bobby, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bobby Singer is Dean and Sam Winchester's Father, College, Dean is Basically Dean Smith, Dean is Not Amused, Dean is a Sweetheart, Everybody Lives, Family, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, John and Mary are divorced, Mary Lives, Mentioned John, Omega Dean, Omega Mary Winchester, Plans For The Future, Teen Sam, Well Stepfather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihonlove/pseuds/nihonlove
Summary: One part of Dean's life ends when he's 19, and another one begins.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the technical "first" part to the Actor AU. It doesn't have Cas in it, so it's pretty Gen, but it's pretty important in terms of Dean's characterisation and past, so I'd like it if you still spared it some time :). Don't worry though, I have another part with Cas in it coming up soon ;).
> 
> This week has been a tough one for many people, I know, including myself, but I hope this can bring it to an end with a happier note.

“That’s a wrap on _Easthallow High 3: The Final Choice_! Thanks guys, that was great!”

When Dean heard the director call out those words, he was at first overcome with the knowledge that this part of his life was now basically over. There might still be some reshoots of certain scenes, and definitely some work to be done with the press and promotion for the movie, but the most important and the biggest bulk of the work was done. Four years, and it was now over.

Just as all the emotions this thought brought up began catching up to him, Jo and Benny both grabbed Dean into a group hug. Dean put his arms around them as well, holding their bodies as tight against his own as he could. Jo tucked her head in his shoulder, Benny let his head rest against his own collar bone, and Dean breathed the both of them in. They were all crying now, and Dean kissed the top of Jo’s head, trying to even out his breathing and pretend that he wasn’t getting all emotional over all this. These were his best friends, this was his family, and now everything was going to be different. Soon enough, Dean would no longer get to expect spending this much time together with them anymore. Perhaps they and the rest of the crew might run into each other in some new projects, but that could take God knew how long. Especially when Dean wasn’t going to be picking up anything new straight away.

Dean knew Benny had already been offered a new job. As a white Alpha male with traditionally masculine and handsome looks, aside from his blossoming talent and potential, there was no shortage of roles for him. He was starting out as a guest star in a TV show, and he was hoping he might be able to make an impression to stay on longer than the four episodes he had been offered to start with. Jo, much like Dean, was going home to Nebraska for a while, but her agent had reassured her that she was going to have many auditions lined up when she got back to L.A. Jo was hoping to do some stage work next, wishing to stretch her wings and talent out more after having already been involved in a major movie trilogy.

Dean, though…Dean didn’t even really feel like thinking about acting or other projects for a while. _Easthallow High_ may not have been the most high-class of franchises, having been brought to the big screen from the pages of hit teen novels, but it had been the biggest part of Dean’s teenage years by far. He’d been a part of this project since he’d been 15. He’d grown up on these sets, with these people. His two costars were his closest friends, and one of them had even been Dean’s first, and so far only, romantic partner. He and Benny had dated for a few months when Dean had been 16 and Benny 17, but had in the end decided they were better off as just friends.

The point was, Dean was attached to _Easthallow_ in ways he had never anticipated  he would be when he’d first signed his contract, agreeing to do his part for the three movies. He’d grown not only as a person but as an actor through them. He didn’t want to think about moving on just yet. That could wait a while, he was sure.

Therefore, following the wrap-up party, tearful goodbyes and early notes about the PR schedule for the last movie, Dean got his last affairs in L.A in order and got in his car (a respectable, reliable Prius he had gotten with the money he’d earned from the first _Easthallow_ movie) to drive back home to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Dean may have had to get used to flying from filming location to filming location, but the occasions when he had more time, as he did now, he liked to take his time and drive where he needed to go. He had actually made it into a bit of a tradition, driving home once filming finished. Being on the road gave him a sense of freedom very few things in life did, with him being able to make his own schedule, eat whatever he liked and listen to the music he wanted. It was just him, his car, and the open high road. The road never judged him, or looked for any kind of misbehavior in his manner to write about, and just let Dean be Dean. Plus, even with his hair still dyed the bleached blond rather than being its natural darker and more faded hue, most of the time, Dean didn’t even need to worry about being recognized while he was on the great American highway. His _Easthallow_ character, Davie, was after all shorter than his actor was after his last few growth spurts, and the movies had had to be filmed accordingly. Dean’s natural freckles were also always covered under make-up during filming, and his natural light green eyes were covered by brown contacts. With the fake glasses he tended to wear just in case, not many people were able to recognize him as Dean Winchester, when they were expecting someone who looked much more like Davie Carlyle.

So Dean drove, stopping for the occasional burger or wrap, for once letting himself have that luxury while sleeping in motels when he needed to and calling home about his progress once in a while. The road was familiar to Dean, and being on felt as much a part of coming home as the actual city and house itself. Even before starting to act and the moving around it required, much of Dean’s life had been spent on the road. When his parents had divorced when he’d been seven, Dean had been juggled between South Dakota and Kansas either in buses or driven by his Mom, Dad or stepfather. Mostly buses though, before Dean himself could drive him and his little brother Sam, because it allowed the adults in his life to avoid seeing each other.

On the third day of his roadtrip, Dean reached the familiar streets of Sioux Falls, taking it all in with a smile and joy. He knew this way like the back of his hand by now. The spring sun was shining, and Dean opened the window, allowing fresh air to pour into the car, along with the smell of growing new flowers and grass. It was good to be home.

Dean drove to the Singer Salvage Yard, past all the clutter of piled cars and their parts, towards the familiar two-story blue house he called home. Before he could even park the car, the front door opened to the porch and Sam came practically running out. He had grown again since Dean had last seen him, at that stage of his teens where his legs were far too long, his arms too short and his hands too big when compared to the rest of his body. Dean was just glad he wasn’t taller than him, at least not yet, though everyone could tell Sammy was growing up big, especially since his presentation as an Alpha some months ago.

“Dean!” Sam shrieked, throwing himself at his brother as Dean watched their mother and stepfather also step out of the house behind Sam.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean murmured, holding onto Sam as tightly as he had to Benny and Jo less than a week earlier, even though this was a reunion rather than a goodbye.

“It’s Sam, Jerk. Sammy is a chubby 11-year-old,” his brother insisted, though he didn’t let go of Dean, scenting him.

Dean scented Sam back, taking in his familiar, woodsy scent he knew almost as well as his own. “Whatever, Sammy.”

“Dean,” his mother had by now reached them as well, and joined in on the group hug. Dean wrapped his free arm around her as well. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dean said softly, turning his head to scent his mother as well. Gunpowder and freshly-washed laundry. The scent of home.

“All right now,” Dean’s stepfather Bobby spoke from a few feet away, hands on his hips, though he was smiling. “Let’s not stand out here like a bunch of nobodies, and let lunch get cold. C’mon, Dean, it’s your favorite.”

Dean grinned, and he, Sam and Mary reluctantly entangled themselves from one another. Mary proceeded to get Dean’s bags from the car, while Dean also gave his stepfather a hug.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said, breathing in the smell of gas exhaust and chili he had come to associate with his stepfather.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby mumbled into Dean’s shoulder, but held him back all the same, patting his back a few times. “It’s good to have you home, boy.”

“It’s good to _be_ home.”

The rest of that day was spent as a sort of coming home party for Dean, Bobby having cooked so much of his famous chili that Dean was sure it could feed a small village, and all of them having so much to catch up on after six months. Dean shared what he was by law allowed to about his experiences on set and filming this time around, which he hadn’t gotten to share over the phone and Skype calls, and how much easier being on set was now that he had graduated and no longer had to juggle schoolwork and acting. Afterwards, Sam told Dean about his days as a regular high school student, Mary shared a few stories about her work at the police force, and Bobby a few about the cars he had fixed of late, or particularly memorable customers he’d had. They all ate, drank and laughed for a long time, and Dean was happier than ever to fall into his soft bed with the memory-foam mattress in his own room. Even after all these years, his tiny rented L.A apartment just never felt or even smelled like home in this way. The feel of his bed, the murmurs of the old house, and the scents of his family surrounding him, Dean was quickly lulled to sleep.

…

Although Dean deeply loved his family, and he was happy to get to see them and talk to them again, he quickly came to the realization that now that he didn’t have to go back to regular classes at the local high school a few days after coming back from filming, life in Sioux Falls was pretty boring.

Mom and Bobby of course had to work, and Sam had still had to go to school. For the first few days Dean was content to loiter around the house, help Bobby fix dinner and catch up on movies, TV shows and social media. But after about a week of being back, Dean slowly began to grow restless. Over the years of juggling acting and high school, he had gotten used to hectic schedules and being constantly busy. Being immobile like this was strange to him, especially when he didn’t have anything important coming up anytime soon. Dean didn’t even have any real friends in Sioux Falls, his childhood friends having relocated some years back, and having missed his window of making new ones in high school. By the time Dean had been able to attend actual classes, basically everyone had already formed their groups, and it wasn’t like Dean had the best set of social skills to be able to insert himself into already-formed groups. And it was still another few weeks before he would be needed for the interviews about _Easthallow 3_.

He took up helping Bobby and his team of mechanics out at the salvage yard once in a while, doing whatever work was available. But although Bobby never complained about Dean helping out, the truth was that Dean was no trained mechanic. He knew how to take care of a car and often could even tell what was wrong with one when looking into them, having been brought up by two men who worked with cars for a living, but Dean’s interests had always laid elsewhere. It was one of the reasons he had taken up acting in the first place.

Dean briefly considered driving down to Kansas to see his Dad, just to have something to do, but quickly dismissed the idea. Once upon a time, John Winchester had actually been prouder than anyone about Dean’s interest in acting, the love of movies having been one of the few things he’d had in common with his oldest son, especially after Dean’s early presenting as an Omega at only 13. John had actually worked as a type of pseudo-manager for Dean, having gotten him a few minor roles in TV shows or in local theater productions. John had even driven Dean to L.A when he’d attended the open-call audition for _Easthallow High_ , something Dean had heard of all on his own and convinced his Dad to take him to. John had scoffed at the idea, saying that it was a bunch of teen trash and Dean was above all that. That it would lead to nothing but a bad reputation and typecasting for Dean for the rest of his life. That it was very unlikely that Dean was even going to get any part, so unknown and obscure as he was as a young actor at the time. Looking back, the odds stacked so high against Dean had probably been the only reason John had agreed to take him to the audition.

But then, against all odds, Dean had been called back for another audition. And then another. And in the end, he, out of thousands of young actors auditioning, had caught himself the main role in a major movie trilogy.

Dean had been certain that John would’ve been proud of him for that, even if it was for a project John hadn’t really approved of, just because it was a great opportunity for exposure and further career for Dean. He hadn’t been. And Dad had never really looked at Dean the same way again after Dean had accepted the role of Davie. He no longer worked as Dean’s manager, and Dean and him hardly ever talked. After all, John now had his other family with Dean’s stepmother Kate and his half-brother Adam to focus on. All Dean now was for John was a disappointment of a first son, first an Omega and then a “trashy teen actor” as Dean had once overheard his Dad call him to his Mom. At least it had led to a few choice words from her.

Eventually, Dean started to get fed up and irritated with the lack of having anything to do, snapping at his family even when they asked what was wrong and why he was brooding so much. So, he figured it was about time he did something about all of it.

“I sent an email to my agent,” he told his family over dinner a few days later, “scheduling a Skype call. I want to see if there’re any auditions or work available to me.”

Mary blinked, and her expression and scent took a concerned tone. “Honey, are you sure? So soon?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m not doing anything except lying around the house. I need something to do, something concrete.”

“But are you sure this is what you want to do? Start acting again so soon? Go away again?”

“I’m an actor, Mom,” Dean said. “Acting is kind of what I do. And there aren’t many opportunities for that in Sioux Falls.”

“Still…are you sure this is what you want to do with the rest of your life? You got into acting at such a young age, Dean. You’re still only barely legally an adult. Even if acting is something you decide you want to do more of, there would still be time afterwards if you decided to do something else…”

“Like what? Keep helping out at the salvage yard? Become a cop?” Dean knew he was being needlessly snappish, and that he was just trying to pull a reaction out of his mother. But he couldn’t help it. He was tired, tense and annoyed with everything and everyone, and he wanted to either fight this out with his Mom or get her support. Mary and Bobby had been reluctant to let Dean get into such a major project as the lead actor in a movie trilogy at only 15, but had in the end consented to it as long as Dean promised to be able to maintain his schoolwork with the help of an on-set tutor. Despite their worry over various events in Dean’s life, they had always tried to respect Dean’s choices and help him through the difficulties. He needed that from them now.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man,” Mary said, and let Dean know with a single look that she knew what he was up to and wasn’t letting herself get dragged into it. “I meant, you could go to college. You sent out those applications for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, because you insisted on it,” Dean scoffed.

“But there was a reason we insisted, Dean,” Bobby put in, his tone serious.

“Exactly,” Mary joined her husband. “You’ve missed out on so much of your youth already. Even you must agree your teenage years haven’t been exactly what one would call ‘normal’,” Dean scoffed. “You only went to class half the time, you certainly didn’t go to parties or hang out with your friends.”

“I did plenty of that in L.A, thanks.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it,” Mary said. “What I mean is that you missed out on the high school experience, the normal life. And you can’t deny the life of an actor hasn’t always been easy or caused troubles for you.” Dean couldn’t answer that. “Don’t you think that’s unfair? Or that you should at least try it out before you move onto the acting life for good? Wouldn’t it be nice to actually go to a new place, meet new people, experience and learn new things? Wouldn’t you like to have an actual party when you graduate?”

Dean winced at that, because it was still a somewhat sore point. While the rest of his year’s class had been having their graduation parties, Dean had been in Canada, filming. Dean had insisted it wasn’t that big of a deal, but in truth, after all the work he had put into his studies and the good grades he had finished with, it had been disappointing not to be able to go out with a bang. His Mom had seen through him and had told him she’d make it happen with the filming crew if he just gave her the word. But then Dean had thought about how none of his friends he’d want to be there would likely be unable to come, and how having a party kind of meant he would have to invite his Dad. And how that would mean having his Dad, his Mom and both of his stepparents in the same house, even possibly the same room together…so he had insisted it wasn’t worth the trouble.

His Mom had a point otherwise too, honestly. When Dean had been filming, he’d mostly been very happy and had loved it. But he’d been sad it had taken him away from his family for such long periods of time. That at the end of the day, he had to come back to his empty, cold and lonely apartment to sleep in. That everything about his life had been so controlled and monitored all the time, from what he ate to what he said to what he wore. It had been even worse when there was no filming and he had to go to regular school. He always had to sit alone at lunch, he didn’t have anyone to talk to, and he never got picked as a partner for any project voluntarily. Because Davie looked so different from Dean, no one had really known who Dean was and Dean hadn’t wanted to correct them. More than being friendless, he would’ve hated having friends who only hung out with him because of his job or the fame it brought. Dean’s only real friends were the people he worked with, and even with them Dean always had to be careful not to end up in the cover of some gossip magazine, claiming Dean was back with Benny or had taken it up with Jo or was cheating on Benny with Jo.

So, no, Dean hadn’t exactly had the most normal of teen years. But it didn’t mean he was going to admit to it now, especially to his mother.

“I’ve already scheduled the call,” he said, putting more mashed potatoes into his mouth. “It’s happening.”

“Dean,” Mary said, her tone now gentler. “If this is what you truly want to do, you know we will support you. But I’d like you to at least look at the letters you’ve gotten back from colleges. See if you got in, consider your options. Will you promise to do that, once you’ve talked it over with your agent?”

Dean thought about it while he chewed. What did he have to lose? He was a legal adult, he could go into acting even if he looked into a few colleges. Besides, it would be kind of nice to see which ones had accepted him.

“Okay, Mom, I’ll do that.”

Two days later, Dean connected a call over Skype to his agent, Bela Talbot. After a few pleasantries about how everything was going and so on and so forth, Bela quickly cut to the chase.

“I must be honest with you, Dean,” she said. “I do have a few roles lined up for you, a few for which you were even specifically requested for, but I don’t think you’re going to be very thrilled about them.”

Dean blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that most of them are rather the same, and within the same genre: more teen romances. And you wouldn’t be the lead either. Most of the roles they want you for are either the Beta best friend or the Omega in a love triangle that doesn’t get a happy ending.”

It felt like a pile of led had settled in the pit of Dean’s stomach. “But…but how?”

“Honey,” Bela said, taking that tone that she used when she was talking to him like he was a child, which Dean hated. “You haven’t been in this business this long to not have some idea, surely? Your big entrance to the industry was a high profile romantic trilogy targeted mostly to teenagers. You were good at that, and could’ve maybe landed a few roles as the main romantic lead in some better romantic comedies, or maybe a TV drama like your friend Benny. But the fact is, you sort of grew out of that. I mean, look at yourself.” She gestured at him from the screen, and Dean almost without thinking glanced at his body. His overgrown, big, tall body. He tried to will himself away from thinking about the pizza he’d had earlier, and the chub it seemed to have turned into around his waist. “You’re not exactly the typical Omega, Dean, not what appeals to the lowest common denominator. There is a reason you were filmed looking like you’re smaller than you actually are. You worked well when you were still 16 or even 17, but not so much now that you’ve grown to your real height. Yet your face prevents you from passing as an Alpha either. So it is either being a Beta or the anomaly Omega that doesn’t get far in life, when it comes to roles.”

Dean gritted his teeth. His face was flushed, his eyes stinging. He’d always liked that Bela was the type of person who told him the truth, that usually didn’t talk to him like he was a child and made him understand everything he was signing up for, yet stood up for him when he needed it. But right now, he kind of wished she would’ve been more compassionate and a little less straightforward.

Of course Dean had known he had grown taller during the filming of the _Easthallow_ trilogy than the directors and the producers had liked. He’d even overheard one of the producers asking from the nutrition specialist that took care of Dean, Benny, and Jo’s diets if there was anything to be done that could stunt his growth somewhat. He’d hated his body for rebelling against him like that, for not staying petite and pretty like every magazine, movie and book told him Omegas were supposed to be. It had led to him very carefully watching what and how much he ate for a while, and he barely dared to think what it could’ve led to if his on-set tutor, Ms. Moseley and his friends hadn’t noticed it as early as they had. Thankfully, they had contacted his parents in time, and Dean had been referred to a counselor. She, along with Dean’s Mom, stepfather and friends, had helped Dean realize there was nothing he could do about the height he was growing into or the weight he was gaining as a result. Instead of worrying so much about that, he had put his heart and soul into acting the best he could during the filming of the trilogy. He had wanted to showcase his talent, so that taking up _Easthallow_ would be worth something, that it could lead to bigger and better things for him once someone saw him act. He knew the film industry was terrible and crooked, wanting to hire mostly certain types of people (white, young and conventionally attractive), but evidently he had still had some faith that his passion and talent would carry him where his abnormal body type wouldn’t. Apparently he’d been wrong.

“Dean?” Bela’s voice rouse Dean from his thoughts. “This is just how things work. You’re still basically a nobody, after all, and very young. It takes a while for most actors to find their place. Almost everyone has to pay their dues somehow. But by accepting more roles, you’ll meet new people and make more connections which will lead to more opportunities for you. That’s why I suggest you take a few of these roles under consideration. You’ll still be able to get your face out there, show your talent to the world and pay your bills.”

“Bela,” Dean said. “I need to think about this for a while. I’ll call you later.”

He signed out of Skype without another word. He would likely be in trouble with Bela for that later, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he’d done to get this far, all that work, all the sacrifices he’d made for his career…and all it led to was this. More of the same, except even worse. At least in _Easthallow_ he’d been the lead. Now all he had offered to him were stereotypical minor characters.

He lay back in his desk chair, numb, for a while, letting his eyes run through his room from top to bottom. Then, his eyes met the pile of big envelopes his Mom had left on his desk. The replies to his college applications.

Dean blinked, and focused on them. They were all thick, and he could guess rejection letters wouldn’t need that much paper. Without thinking about it much further, figuring that he at least could feel a little better about himself for a while if he took a look at them and found out he’d been accepted, he grabbed the first letter in the pile and tore it open.

…

It was a few months later that Dean was packing up the last of his things, Sam keeping him company on his bed. Dean had been accepted to almost everywhere he’d applied, likely due to his good grades as well as his fame. However, he’d been in contact with the faculty of NYU, his final choice, and had explained he wasn’t exactly eager to showcase who he was, wanting to try his hand at the normal school experience finally. They had agreed to be accommodating, so long as Dean allowed them to advertise his name in connection with NYU but without specifying that it was Dean who was in fact Dean Winchester. Dean was even allowed to attend under a false name, Dean Smith, and his identity as an Omega wouldn’t be shouted from the rooftops either. NYU was a big enough college and New York a big enough city that Dean could easily disappear into the mass there, surrounded by new people who didn’t need to know who he really was until he got to know them better. With how different he looked from Davie, Dean was certain he would be able to pull off being just some random nobody from Sioux Falls.

“Dean, are you sure you wanna do this?” Sam asked as Dean checked and sealed the last of his boxes.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Kinda late to bring that up, don’t you think, Sammy? I’m leaving day after tomorrow.”

“I know, but…” Sam ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long. “I thought you didn’t want to go to college? I thought acting was what you wanted to do? And you’re really good at it, Dean. I’m not just saying that ‘cause I’m your brother. You know you are good, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean sighed. “But like I told you all, it doesn’t seem to matter. They want me to shrink down a few inches at least to be ‘appropriate’. And I don’t want to settle for something when I’ve worked so hard for this.”

“Yeah, I get that, and you shouldn’t have to and it’s totally unfair, but…”

“Sammy,” Dean said. “Mom was right. The more I think about it now, the more I realize it. I haven’t had a normal life for years now. I don’t even have real friends who I didn’t work with or who don’t live elsewhere. I want to at least try that normalcy out, see if I like it. I still have time to act later, even after I graduate even, if that’s what I want to do. I can even join an acting club or something at NYU if I feel like I miss it, or go to auditions in New York even if I feel like it. This doesn’t have to be the end of my career, Sam. It’s just me trying to figure out if acting is even what I wanna do, or if it’s something else entirely. College is about discovering yourself, right? So that’s what I’m gonna go do there too.”

Sam averted his eyes, his scent full of mixed emotions. “…I’ll miss you though.”

“Hey,” Dean softened, taking a seat next to Sam. “I’ll miss you too. But you do get that acting would take me away from here anyway, right? And that I’m 18 anyway, and don’t want to always live with my parents. I think I’ve outgrown Sioux Falls, to be honest. I wanna get away from here.”

“Yeah…yeah, I get that,” Sam admitted. “And I do think it’s a good idea that you’re going to college. But you know…it’d suck if you never acted again, too.”

Dean smiled a little. Sam had always been his biggest fan, and he had been the first person Dean had ever acted for, doing dramatized versions of stories Sam liked for his brother’s amusement when he’d been sad or telling stories with shadow pictures. It had been through Sam that Dean had really learned to love acting, and Sam’s encouragement had kept him going at his loneliest or when the critics were tough or directors demanding.

Instead of saying that, though, he mussed up Sam’s hair. “C’mon, help me with these boxes.”

Sam made irritated noises, swatting at Dean’s hand. “Jerk!”

“Brat,” Dean teased, before standing up again and getting back to work.

This was the beginning of a new chapter in his life. And he was determined to make the most of it.


End file.
